#and i am going to shut up now before i say anything. actually potentially inflammatory about them lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

all-seeing-ifer · 9 months

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prefacing this by saying that I know that this is truly not a hill worth dying on, it is merely one I am choosing to die on because. idk man I make bad decisions. but I do think it's a crying shame that steven universe got saddled with this negative reputation as being kind of the quintessential example of a piece of media that's very safe and unchallenging and quote unquote wholesome, because like. ok i get that this negative reputation is really more about the fandom than about the show itself (and that's fair. the fandom sucked. i would never deny that. i was there gandalf etc.) but it does still feel a bit unfair bc when you take steven universe For What It Is (namely, a cartoon network show aimed primarily at kids and families) and compare it to other contemporary shows with the same genre/target demographic, it honestly was pretty challenging and complex and ambitious. even leaving aside for a second that it was very ground breaking in terms of children's media acknowledging that gay people exist in a way that left the crew constantly catching shit from the network, I struggle to think of any other children's media that would dare to explore the kind of themes and topic that su explored. things like grief, bereavement, how this kid's relationships with the adults in his life are impacted by the fact that his mum died in childbirth giving birth to him, trauma and mental illness (I know that dealing with mental health has become more common in children's media recently but there's definitely none that have been prepared to address the uglier sides of mental illness in the way that steven universe future did), explaining consent in ways that kids can understand, letting its protagonists be genuinely unlikeable at times, introducing the idea of restorative justice and there not being one singular bad guy that can be killed to save the day. These are topics and themes that you don't see a lot of in kids' media because they're hard to portray in a way that feels honest while still being appropriate and understandable to kids, and I think the show does deserve the credit it got for actually being willing to tackle this stuff and imo doing it very successfully most of the time.

AND to be honest, at the risk of leaning a bit close to talking mad shit about some of su's contemporaries (especially when at the end of the day i do quite like these other shows), it does. kind of grind my gears that other tumblr-popular animated shows like gravity falls and the owl house have managed to completely sidestep getting saddled with the same kind of negative, unchallenging reputation that su has, despite the fact that from a purely storytelling perspective both these shows are WAY safer and more easily digestible than su ever was lmao

#i mean toh was very envelope pushing in terms of queer representation hence why it got cancelled #but in terms of pure storytelling? yeah it's a pretty conventional good vs evil story #and like i think it does that WELL same for gravity falls but they're not necessarily. breaking any new ground #which is fine! not every show has to!#and i am going to shut up now before i say anything. actually potentially inflammatory about them lmao #steven universe #ifer rambles

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thepeakyfckingblinders · 5 years

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Răbĭēs || Michael Gray x reader

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested: 16 + 19 with michael please? xx Summary: n.16 & 19 from my prompt list: “Another’s hands on her skin” + “I’ll burn this fucking place down”. (Thomas being completely reckless here, shocker, I know)

Warnings: violence, heavy drinking, obviously swearing

Author’s notes:

I’m sorry for being this late, so so so sorry! I also forgot to tag you @namelesslosers, forgive me babe

The title is actually a Latin word, I LOVE LATIN SO DAMN MUCH, indeed I added its meaning as an intro for the piece, please tell me if you liked this idea

In this imagine the boys didn’t destroy The Marquis pub (at least not yet), plus the Changrettas attacked Arthur instead of Grace.

There’s a quote written in Italian in the middle of the script, it’s marked by an asterisk and you’ll find its translation at the end of the page.

Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected ♡

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

I FINALLY EDITED THIS IMAGINE, SO I HOPE IT’S BETTER NOW

I AM SO TRULY SORRY I DID SUCH A RUSHED WORK THIS TIME, FORGIVE ME, IT WAS A LONG AND HARD DAY, I NEEDED SOME OTHER TIME TO DO THINGS PROPERLY

ENJOY!

Răbĭēs feminine noun V declension 1. fury, rage, violence 2. madness, frenzy 3. amorous passion

“Tell me again why it had to be her” Michael’s voice came out in a growl, hampered by his clenched teeth, as he tensely moved on his chair, mechanically adjusting his classy pinstripe suit. He was unutterably furious because, that time more than any other, Thomas had seriously gone too far, to say the least. In fact, after John’s unpleasant encounter with Angelo Changretta, the Italian clan had started threatening the Peaky Blinders and, a few days later, two of their youngest recruits somehow managed to attack Arthur while he was alone on his way home, in the early hours of the morning.

Luckily, no grievous harm had come to the eldest Shelby, those inexperienced and undisciplined kids had only been able to leave a slight knife wound in his left side, but nevertheless, the whole family agreed that such an affront had to be punished. As a result, Tommy got to collect all sorts of information about the Changrettas thanks to his uncountable contacts in Birmingham and London, still that wasn’t enough to take actual action. He needed to hear what the Italians’ intentions were straight from their men’s mouth, so he inconsiderately decided to drag you in that dirty mess by asking you to charm one of their henchmen and obtain as many details as possible about their plans. It goes without saying that you immediately accepted his proposal, tired of not being helpful in any way, you were desperately longing for a chance to show them you were able to cope with that kind of business as well. For this reason, you didn’t think twice about it, not even when Michael found out and firmly objected to the idea of exposing his girlfriend to such a danger. So there you were: Tommy, John and Michael lurking in a secret room of The Marquis pub, two more blinders watching at the main entrance, while you sat alone at the bar, in all your magnificent beauty, patiently waiting for your target to show up. “ ‘Cause that fucking eyetie is almost a kid, we needed a young girl, a clever one, and that’s y/n, now just shut up ” Without blinking an eye at Michael’s totally justified rage, Thomas nonchalantly cleared his throat and spat that sharp answer with his typical adamant tone, then he opened his cigarette case handing it to his cousin, as if a simple smoke could repay him for the hell he was literally going through.

“That’s my girl, Tom! Christ, those people are dangerous!” Michael’s fists aggressively collided with the round table they were sitting to, and the crystal glasses full of whisky upon it alarmingly quaked, producing a disturbing tinkle that filled the room, together with his heavy breaths. “I don’t see much of a problem with that since she fucks you, a bloody gangster” Tommy’s lips, already tensed in a harsh grin, threw out that inflammatory remark as he lethargically played with the half empty cup in his right hand, his blue eyes fixed on the dark liquor swaying. And this time Michael definitely lost his temper, his face twitched with pure fury as he abruptly stood from his seat, without a second thought he would’ve rabidly pounced on Thomas, had it not been for John’s quick hands that promptly grabbed his shoulders in order to keep him in his place. “Hey! You’re acting like two fucking children” John blurted out, his low voice had the air quivering around their solid figures, then he moderately poked Michael’s neck in hope to put some sense back into him “Shit, you have to control yourself, kid! We need to stay focused on what’s important right now” As the middle brother surprisingly tried to act like the grown-up for once, they saw your elegant silhouette sneaking in the private room strategically located in front of them, so that they could have a clear visual on what was happening in there without being seen. You giggled in a flirtatious way, holding hands with the Italian guy -whose name turned out to be Salvatore- in order to lead him exactly where you wanted him to be. At that sight Michael rudely finished his drink in a single swig, before lighting the umpteenth cigarette of the night in attempt to calm his nerves, but then again he saw the bloke’s fingers ably linger your cheek and go down your neck while the two of you kept talking about only God knew what, and his blind rage inexorably erupted afresh. “You want me to stay here, nice and quiet, watching another’s hands on her skin without doing anything, that’s bullshit!” He angrily snarled, his fingers going through his short hair in a convulsive movement. John rolled his eyes at those words and boldly put on a taunting smirk as soon as the cigar he was smoking left his lips. “C’mon, Shakespeare, stop being so dramatic over this” But he immediately bowed his head in discomfort, when Thomas and Michael simultaneously sent him a menacing glare; in the meanwhile Salvatore tantalizingly leant towards your face, whispering in your ear with his strong accent something about how he’d like to feel your body against his, and you suddenly began to fear the potential developments of that risky situation. Michael, on the other hand, was now furiously walking up and down the place, it really felt like he was suffocating and he knew he couldn’t stand anything like that for much longer. “If that fucker gets that close to her again, I swear I’ll burn this fucking place down!” Exactly when his brutal voice came out in a frenetic shout, by sheer coincidence, he found himself watching one of the guy’s hands avidly grip your thigh left exposed by the slit of the glittering dress you were wearing; you instantly tried to push the stranger away, yet he was too strong in comparison and his filthy mouth overwhelmingly ended upon the hot skin of your neck.

John didn’t even have the time to fully pronounce the word “fuck” alone, that Michael already stormed in the room, he had raw hate burning in his eyes and sharp breaths shaking his body as he took heavy steps in your direction. “E tu chi cazzo sei?”* that was the only thing Salvatore was able to say, before your boyfriend roughly pulled him off you, punching him in the face multiple times and then forcing him to get down on his knees by holding a hand around his throat, nearly choking him on the spot. You had never seen him in such a state, your Michael was always sweet and caring, rarely nervous and even less violent, the one busy killing a man in front of your eyes was a complete different person, and that realization scared you to death. “John, get her out of here, now!” His tone brooked no arguments as he kept tightening his grip on the boy, despite your screams and prayers to stop; eventually Johnny obeyed to that severe order, dragging you out of the pub with no hesitation and leaving Thomas and Michael alone with their prey. “This bastard needs to learn a fucking lesson.”

*E tu chi cazzo sei? = Who the fuck are you?

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donnerpartyofone · 5 years

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TL;DR - i finally got an MRI for my ear, which has been fucked up and constantly clogged since september and developed tinnitus in february, and apparently, supposedly, there is nothing wrong with it. so there’s nothing to do about it. so just like with my eye and my skin and my lung and my etc, i have a problem that i can’t do anything about, that i can’t even get the satisfaction of a diagnosis for, and i’m so pissed off about how much time and energy i’ve spent trying to improve things for myself when there was absolutely no point in doing so, that i just want to set my body on fire to really show it what i think of it.

i’m so, so mad. the last couple of months have been almost nothing but wall to wall doctor’s appointments, and with zero exception, they have all been a complete waste of time. it hurts because my body tortures me, of course, but it hurts worse than that because i convinced myself that i HAD to do this, that it was Mature to face my fear of doctors and generally the Right Thing to Do, when i absolutely didn’t want to do any of this at all.

i suffer a lot from an internalized impression of myself as being lazy, defeatist, and dramatic. it comes from a lot of places. i grew up in an environment where i was the only open depression sufferer, under one parent who definitely considered depression to be an antisocial behavioral problem, to be treated like any other shallow cry for attention. i also grew up in an environment full of obvious talents, all of whom would go on to be published, or even public figures, and not to be a complete asshole, but the idea that “you can do anything you put your mind to” is kept alive by people who have the baseline talent necessary to succeed at things they put their minds to. if you subscribe to the idea that success requires nothing other than commitment, then the implication is that all failure is a matter of laziness, petulance, and defeatism--never lack, never inferiority, never ordinariness. on top of all this, my personal interests--horror, sexually graphic media, comics, underground music movements, the usual roundup of morbid or antisocial cultural items--were considered pretty much...well, not very adult. so what i’m coming to is that if i can’t prove my adulthood in any way that has to do with who i am or what i’m capable of, then the very least i can do is Be Responsible. (and of course i get made fun of all the time for being an uptight rule follower but JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, LITERALLY WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO)

one of the main ways you can Be Responsible, if you have the means that is, is to look after your health. the world is full of icky, boring, degrading, depersonalizing, and occasionally painful tasks that are necessary to keep the societal cogs turning. if you can’t make art or have ideas or be beautiful or become an athlete or whatever, you can still show that you’re alive and generally hygienic by going to the dmv, voting, showing up for jury selection, or going to the doctor. you can still grasp the final shred of integrity offered to you by doing things no one wants to do, but that we know are necessary for the vitality of self and society. so i’m extra good at doing stuff that people my age frequently shirk--the dentist appointments, the doing your taxes the second the forms come in, etc--because they’re sort of the only things i can do that prove that i’m not, you know, a complete piece of shit.

so this year, at the start of february, i decided i was going to get a real handle on my health. i’d been going to doctors for various things already, of course, even though it was pretty much never satisfying; the only thing i can think of that ever got fixed or explained was the pathological growth of scar tissue over my eyeballs, which required some pretty fucked up surgery. but at this time, i had a lot of problems building up. my left eye developed a small spot, and a constant glare that borders on having double vision. my right ear remained completely stuffed up since i had a cold last fall, and began to ring constantly at the end of the winter. my right lung has felt alarmingly tight and weak for...years actually. the right side of my face is constantly beet red, like i go fresh with somebody’s wife, and i can see how it’s thickening and bending my flesh all out of shape, which rosacea will do progressively and incurably throughout your entire life. i decided that instead of quaking in fear of doctors, and also in fear of wasted time, i was going to straighten my back and go nip this shit in the bud. after all, when you’re miserable but not doing anything about it, people kind of hate you, and then you have THAT problem on top of all your real problems. sometimes you gotta give the people what they want.

so how did it all go?

my skin: since no insurance company considers rosacea a medical problem, which is actually complete fucking bullshit, i decided to take matters into my own hands. i researched what rich people do for their uninsurable problem, and decided to use my recent (traumatic) inheritance to take care of myself. i tried three different preposterously expensive topical treatments that i was told are a “magic bullet” for rosacea, and all of them made my face blow up like a fucking macy’s day balloon. then, after four rounds of extremely expensive, painful and scary laser treatments, i had absolutely no results other than that my face was actually MORE reactive for about a month after the last one. i’m fucked.

my eye: according to my optometrist and ophthalmologist and corneal specialist it’s “just” regular scar tissue from my terrifying surgeries, not the pathological scar tissue that i had to have removed via terrifying surgery and localized chemotherapy. this kind of sucks because it means i can’t just get it removed again, but at least there is a slight chance that my body will reabsorb it like regular scar tissue. (oh yeah? and what’s my luck USUALLY like?) my only “treatment option” is to use eyedrops four times a day, which is actually extremely uncomfortable, and which pretty much means i’m just not allowed to wear makeup ever again.

my lung: after two rounds of clear x-rays and a breathing test that only detected slight asthma, through two GPs and a pulmonologist, nobody has anything to say about why i have this chronic breathing problem. there’s some indication that it might be a “muscular-skeletal problem” that’s putting pressure on the one lung, so i guess i need to add a physical therapist or something to my endless list of specialists.

my ear: two or three trips to urgent care (i forget how many now), two GPs, an ENT, a fucking weird hearing test, and an MRI have done absolutely nothing for me. after a cold with a sinus/ear infection last fall, my right ear remained permanently slammed shut; if i pop it, it closes back up in seconds. i do not have the same problem with the other ear, it is clearly a physical problem. in february, my ear began to ring agonizingly and has not stopped for a second. in all this time, i went through round after round of antibiotics, antihistamines, anti-inflammatories, steroids, etc. nothing works. no one can see any type of problem. apparently i have the option of electing to have a tube surgically inserted into my ear, although i can’t quite figure out what the risk factor is, both for my tinnitus, and for my hearing in general.

and OF COURSE, depression: part of the stigma against depression is that it’s a choice, somehow. like fresh air and exercise and looking on the bright side are so effective that if you’re depressed, it must be because you LIKE IT THAT WAY, because otherwise you would use these simple and free cures for your so-called illness and it would be all over, right? anyway i kind of hate being depressed, and i’ve been working my fucking ass off trying to deal with it. i see a nutritional therapist (a licensed psychiatrist) who prescribed me a number of nutritional supplements that i do think help, but they are unthinkably hard on my stomach. i tried lexapro, and it made me feel so abnormal, and cut into my general quality of life so badly, that i didn’t keep it up. i tried a generic version of wellbutrin, and it made me violently sick to my stomach, and caused my ringing ear to ring deafeningly for days after a single dose. the brand name version wasn’t much better. then i tried lamictal, and felt totally great AND NORMAL for like a week, and then i got the rare and potentially deadly lamictal rash. sometimes this just indicates a basic allergy, and sometimes it indicates Stevens-Johnson Syndrome which causes something called TOXIC EPIDERMAL NECROLYSIS WHICH REQUIRES LONG TERM HOSPITALIZATION TO GROW YOUR SKIN BACK. i had to deal with this on the day of mandatory final exam presentations in a class where i was already struggling, and this was one of the darkest days i can recently remember. after this, my psychiatrist tried to prescribe me abilify, but after i started to hear about the side effects and personal testimony of certain friends, i decided i couldn’t handle it. very possibly, i just cannot be medicated for depression, unless i’m willing to sacrifice everything else around the depression too.

...this is all pretty much a retread of an experience i had for a few years, a few years ago, where i was having these abnormal paps, so they constantly had to drill painful core samples out of my cervix to keep checking up on the NOTHING that was going on in there, until one day they were just like...uh your tests are coming back fine now, and we don’t know why they didn’t before, and it just doesn’t matter, you don’t have to do this anymore PLUS you could have just been sitting on your couch jerking off this entire time and it would have done exactly as much good as this cycle of being humiliated and tortured by doctors in a while that leaves you curled up in a ball sobbing every time. i’m still pretty pissed off about it, if you can’t tell.

so like i don’t know why the fuck i’m doing all this. i don’t know why i do anything. nothing fucking comes from even my most herculean effort except a relentless sense of mystery that is starting to border on satire. i don’t know why i have so many problems. i’m 38 years old and i’m in ok shape. i don’t have generalized immune issues or anything. my doctor said i have some of the best lab work she’s ever seen. why the fuck does all this shit happen to me. i’m trying so fucking hard to enjoy my life. it’s hard to be in mental and physical pain all the time, the latter for absolutely no coherent reason. i mean i’d rather have a bunch of random problems than like, lupus or MS or something, for sure, but everything that happens to me is so meaningless and arbitrary, i’m starting to get that feeling like god hates me. it’s also hard to have the constant feeling that so many people think that failure to enjoy life is exclusively a matter of “not trying hard enough”, being a pill, looking for attention. i don’t know what to do anymore. i’m real pissed. i think what i need is a change of philosophy, which will be a long hard road. at least i know it’s the one and only area where i, and only i, have some level of control. wish me luck.

#long post

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badrpstories · 6 years

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Words alone seem insufficient to express the importance of good communication between muns. Nevertheless, I shall make an attempt in sharing this little story. Disclaimer: there’s nothing lurid or inflammatory here. No fictional sex and violence, no controversy bait. I’m pretty sure there’s nothing triggering…just a mention of mental illness and I think there’s a metaphor that involves drowning but, that’s about it. It’s not even remarkably bad. Just sad. So, if you’re hoping for something scandalous, you’ve been forewarned.

Several months ago, I lost an rp partner that I considered a friend. It’s been long enough for me to be capable of writing this but not long enough for me to be truly over it. I’m writing this because the reason I am still not over it is that I don’t know how much of that loss was my own fault and my behavior in response to that loss has probably ensured that I will never know.

Prior to starting threads we spent a couple months chatting, as often as every other day to once or twice a week. Skimming over the chat log to confirm that frequency reopens and rubs salt into old wounds.

Then, after we started threading, just a few replies in, they went MIA. No heads up, no indication of any problems, they just vanished. This wasn’t their first disappearing act. Roughly a year before this they had done something similar, albeit under different circumstances.

With the exception of this ghostly behavior, they were everything I could hope for in an RP partner and, from all I knew of them, I very much liked them as a person and would have liked to count them as a friend. Their other partners seemed like a good group of people that I’d be happy to interact with as well. Since I have very limited free time for RP I’m understanding of others in that situation; I’m also very particular (probably a little peculiar), and perhaps more selective than I’ve a right to be, or have admitted to being in the past. I’m a choosy beggar. So, when they resurfaced and reached out to see if I wanted to write with them again I was elated. I was also very concerned that I might have caused or contributed to their previous disappearance. They assured me I had not, that I’d done nothing wrong. They explained what had happened before and insisted that they’d be sticking around this time.

Had they seemed less available, or less enthused, during those two months before we started writing, had they not been initiating chats and responding so quickly, it would have been different. There should have been a better discussion about future activity expectations. At one point they remarked ‘even if we can only do one reply a week each’ (something to that effect) and that sounded perfectly reasonable to me.

The last time I heard from them all seemed well. I messaged them a little over a week later, after I’d posted replies, just to inform them of some technical issues I was having. When another week had gone by without hearing from them I was starting to get worried. I expressed my concerns and said I would appreciate hearing from them, even if they were unable to reply on threads, just to know everything was okay. Early on, when we were chatting, they had offered their cell number. I didn’t take them up on it. I’m careful with my personal info, it felt too soon and, while I certainly don’t like to be left hanging, I didn’t want them to feel like I needed to keep tabs on them. I was fine with tumblr being our only point of contact.

Six weeks went by with no sign of them. Logically, I knew it was possible that something had come up, that real life might have overwhelmed them. It wasn’t as if they were actively RPing with others but, then again, they could have been on other blogs I didn’t know of, so I couldn’t really take anything from that. I also know that for most in rp, six weeks of zero contact would be considered a sure sign that the other mun is not interested. I know there are those who will simply ghost others they no longer wish to interact with, some openly admit to it.

I was starting to dissect our OOC exchanges and second guessing everything, looking for anything I might have done wrong, anything that might have been misinterpreted and taken wrong. I would never claim to be perfect in any way but I couldn’t come up with anything that, when weighed against all of our OOC talks, would seem to warrant them having a serious issue with me. Before their disappearance they’d had me feeling confident that they were comfortable discussing any problems, but after all that time without so much as a quick im or psa post it seemed increasingly unlikely. I was now too nervous and shy to even consider reaching out to their other partners.

Mental illness should never be used as an excuse. I’m not including this next part to garner sympathy, only to state facts. I did go through a period of wanting sympathy and commiseration but that’s not the purpose here, this is for explanation. By the end of that sixth week my anxiety had taken over and I was drowning in a whirlpool of mixed emotions, swinging between worry over their well-being, remorseful self-flagellation and bitter, resentful resignation. Yes, I know: It is only a hobby. It is ONLY fucking RP. But I could not simply shut the feelings off and repeating that mantra to myself, reminding myself how irrational and insignificant this all was only added new layers of misery. I tried to distract myself. I wanted to do the intelligent thing and move on, find some sort of victory in happiness with other partners but, I couldn’t think about RP at all without circling back around to this: Where had I gone so wrong?

What if I unwittingly make the same mistakes again?

What if I approach another potential partner or group and accidentally come across them on a different account? Will they think I’m stalking them? Should I just stay away from anything remotely similar?

What if I totally misjudged them from the very beginning?

At the risk of sounding really melodramatic, the worst of it was the feeling of being unable to accurately gauge another’s attitude and intentions, the fear that there is something fundamentally flawed in my perception of other people. But that is something I’ve struggled with a long time, in real life, due to experiences.

Desperate for answers, I went trawling the cesspool of salt and confessions, sifting through and inspecting every possible explanation, from the petty and absurd to the grave and severe. There I came upon things that seemed, to my stress addled brain, sure signs confirming my fears and suspicions. Maybe I was right. I’ll never know, and that just might be due to what I chose to do next.

There are more details. There always are, right? There’s more to the story that might give a little more insight but, those might be too revealing, for both of us involved. This is no call-out and those details aren’t critical to the purpose. However, given those details, my state of mind, the history, the timing, all of our previous discussions and traded reassurances, their actions felt almost punitive and mocking, as if they had done this to ensure I’d never even want to interact with them again. So, I sent a curt im and soft-blocked them.

I can still remember the feeling of my fingertip hovering over that block button as it wavered, through tear-blurred vision, in time with my pulse. The guilt was instantaneous. But I didn’t stop there, oh no! I did the same with a mutual-mutual because they were partners first so of course that person wouldn’t want anything to do with me either. I had intended that to be the end of it. I didn’t even stick to my own resolution. I later sent a lengthy rant expressing my hurt and frustration, chiding them for not having the courage to give me a simple, honest, clear rejection. Over the following months I became increasingly convinced of mistakes I had made early on. In random moments of weakness I would message again, attempting to apologize for these errors, although I was still hurt by the fact that they’d never mentioned any problem (assuming there was one to begin with). Eventually, I deleted our threads, changed my url, essentially shut down. Ultimately, I came to terms with the fact that my own behavior had turned toxic. I should have just quietly walked away after a month of no contact. Instead, all I’d done had achieved nothing but piling wrong upon wrong. I messaged again, trying to apologize for that.

I’ve never seen a trace of them since the last time we spoke so many months ago. I have been told they are alive and more or less well, I’m not sure whether or not I should believe everything I’ve heard. Now and then, I worry that there was some wild misunderstanding, or maybe some bizarre glitch. More worrying is the possibility that their real life circumstances actually have been difficult enough to keep them from ever logging on at all for all this time. But I don’t really think any of that is plausible, more like some sort of twisted wishful thinking that only makes me feel worse. It wouldn’t make me feel worse if I hadn’t reacted like I did and now it’s the only reason I haven’t completely gotten over this, because I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, I never intended to hurt them. As hurtful as what I did do may have been, I was only able to because I believed they did not care at all. But I know that does not make it right, or healthy, regardless of whatever the facts about their disappearance may be.

So, if you ever find yourself in a similar place, as difficult as it may be, try to avoid making the same mistakes I did. Do not block. Don’t even soft-block. Just drop it and try to forget. Vent anonymously if you must. Try not to say anything you might ever, ever regret. Don’t screw yourself out of the chance to walk away with a clean conscience.

#mental illness tw #submission

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